


Tamales are a Labor of Love

by lettersofwrittencollective



Category: The Internship (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29007858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersofwrittencollective/pseuds/lettersofwrittencollective
Summary: Just a cute holiday moment
Relationships: Stuart Twombly/Reader





	Tamales are a Labor of Love

The good thing about living in California was that when he went to the little store and had asked for help with what was Chile Guajillo, Chile California, Chile Pasilla, Chile de Arbol the lady had known exactly what he had meant. Now he was in the kitchen trying to figure out how to put everything together for Y/N. 

When she had moved to Mountain View, it had been without her family and Stuart can still remember how she’d had a rough time of the holidays it last year. Back then, he hadn’t known why but over drinks a few weeks ago, she had revealed that she had missed her grandma’s tamales. 

Stuart didn’t speak a lot of Spanish and Billy and Nick hadn’t been much help.So he had gotten Y/N’s phone and gotten her mom’s number. A phone call later and a somewhat awkward conversation, where he had explained what he had wanted to do in his broken Spanish, he had a recipe and a process. 

He had shredded the chicken and it was currently sitting to the side and he had tried to blend together all of the chile’s but Y/N’s mom hadn’t given him exact measurements. It was just a couple of each and that it had to taste right. 

He also had to apparently strain it at least three times. Something that, even after watching a couple video’s on youtube, he wasn’t sure he had done correctly.

Mostly he had just hoped that it tasted right. 

Y/N’s grandma made the masa for tamales but Stuart wasn’t sure he was ready to try that. Plus, they didn’t own a kitchen stand mixer of any kind so he had picked some up at the same store he had bought the Chile’s from. 

Spreading them had been a disaster. 

He’d forgotten that he needed to soak them and so he had started when they were still dry out of the bag. Needless to say that the masa didn’t bother spreading, at all, Instead it just stuck and there were holes. He’d tried a few different husks before giving up and looking up a youtube video. 

The soaking had been fine, but everyone had a different technique from hands, to cutting boards, to tortilla presses, spatulas, spoons and even a drywall trowel … he hadn’t been sure what to do with any of it and eventually decided to just use a spoon to try and spread it. 

They hadn’t been pretty but he gotten them together and had put them to steam.

Apparently he hadn’t used enough water however because the apartment now smelled like something was burning and he couldn’t figure out what it was. He thought it was the tamales, it was the only thing that made sense, but Y/N’s mom had stressed that he needed to let the tamales steam and Stuart wasn’t actually sure how to put more water in. 

The door opened and he heard his name being called. 

“In here!” he called

She walked in and he could see her confusion on her face as she looked around. She could smell the burning and Stuart could feel his face heat up. 

“Umm… they uh.. they need water I think,” he muttered. 

“Stu…” she began, “did you make tamales?”

He simply shrugged, “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

He watched a smile break out on her lips and before he knew it, she was giving him a kiss before pulling away. She leaned down next to the stove before turning towards him, “Definitely sounds like you need more water.”

“Alright,” he nodded before he grabbed a measuring cup and fililng it with water. As he turns around, he has an idea, “Hey why don’t you add the water?”

Y/N takes a few steps back as she shakes her head quickly, “No meto el mano. Only one hand goes in the pot Stu.”

He has no idea what she’s talking about and confusion must be evident on his face because she laughs, “It’s an old wives tale that we live by at home. Only the person who put the tamales in the pot can do the actual cooking/steaming otherwise you ruin the tamales and considering that it takes at least an hour to cook them once their on the stove, no one wants to ruin tamales.”

“Oh…” is all he says before he nods his head and adds the water to the pot. Stepping away he turns back towards her and tells her, “Well they should be ready soon… i think. they’ve been on for about 45 minutes.”

“Stu,” she asks softly, “did you do this all by yourself?”

“Well yea,” he tells her, “You said you missed your grandmas tamales and I know they won’t be the same but i got the recpie from your mom and i tried to do what she said…”

“You spent your entire day making these?” she clarifies and Stuart can feel his face flush. 

“It’s not a -” he begins, trying to brush it off but she cuts him off, putting her hand up.

“Stu, we usually split tamales into a two day thing. make the mole the night before and do the masa, spreading and steaming the next day… in my family.. making tamales is a labor of love.” 


End file.
